


Nothing between us

by shipintheisland



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Dorks in Love, F2 Boy band + Max, Fluff, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:22:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22759204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shipintheisland/pseuds/shipintheisland
Summary: Lando is in love with Carlos. At least that what Alex, George and Max keep telling him, even if he constantly states otherwise. How could he? He is his teammate, his friend, nothing more, and there is no way they are more than that. Right?Whatever the answer is, his friends won't leave him alone with it.
Relationships: Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen (mentioned), Lando Norris/Carlos Sainz Jr
Comments: 6
Kudos: 156





	Nothing between us

**Author's Note:**

> Found this in my drafts, finally finished it yay :D  
> This is just 6k words of Lando being in love with Carlos, no angst, just fluff and cuteness and the worst friends ever

Lando adjusted himself in his seat, ready to close his eyes and get some well-deserved sleep as the plane took off for Montreal. He was exhausted, frustrated, and all he wanted to do was melt in his seat and disappear for a few days to forget about the deception that was the Azerbaijan Grand Prix.

The weekend had started so well, he had been doing fine until that _fucking_ pitstop that ended it all way to early for his taste. The worst part was that there was nothing he could have done to avoid it. Hence the frustration. He bit the inside of his cheeks, trying to divert his mind from the mourning of his race, complaining more now would be useless and keep him from lulling to sleep.

Next to him, Alex was taking off his shoes to gain some more comfort in the already luxurious jet they were flying with, Max and George facing them and talking about some movie he never heard of. The trip was looking to be calm and quiet, but of course that was without counting on his friends’ ability to annoy him. Sensation that was confirmed when, after a few seconds of heavy silence, George suddenly threw his arms on the tablet separating them and exclaimed with absolutely zero discretion.

“So Lando! I saw Carlos literally running to your motorhome after the interviews. Have something to say about that?”

Straight to the point, as always. The youngest of the group groaned in annoyance, throwing his head in his seat and wanting even more to disappear. He heard Max and Alex snicker, the two Red Bull drivers now fully invested in that particular discussion.

It was always the same with these guys, when he wanted some time alone, they were always around to bother him, but as soon as he needed some help or comfort, they disappeared. _We’re leaving space for someone else!_ They would say, and they all knew who they were implying by that statement. It wasn’t as if it was the first time they were poking at him about his relationship with Carlos, as if there was something to talk about. They were just good friends.

“You were so sad, and he was so worried, I bet he came and cuddled you.” George commented.

“Or maybe he wanted to f-“

Lando strongly elbowed Alex in the ribs to stop him from finishing his sentence, making the tall one burst out laughing from his own stupid sex joke.

If he was hesitating to give them what they wanted before, now Lando was sure he would not dare say a thing about his after-race talk with his teammate.

“Stop it guys, nothing happened so let go.”

Even if he knew his tone wasn’t as strict as he wanted it to be, the annoyed glare he gave the others made them all raise their hands in defence. They chuckled a bit more but went back to their own activities, finally giving up on him, at least for now.

Really, nothing happened. After finishing his media duties, he had locked himself in his motorhome, not wanting to release his frustration on the mechanics, throwing himself on the small couch installed there instead. Then, Carlos had interrupted his mourning session to check up on him. As always, his Spanish companion always knew what to say to cheer him up, and they had ended up laughing hysterically on the couch, before Carlos had taken him in his arms, whispering kind words in his ears. If Lando’s arms had automatically found their place around his friend’s waist, it was just to steady himself. And if he had felt a warm tug in his chest and his cheeks had reddened from the more and more frequent show of affection, he hadn’t paid attention to it, only detaching himself from the other man as soon as he felt his heartbeat accelerating too much.

No, surely, Alex, George and Max would misinterpret his intentions if he told them, so avoiding the subject at all cost was the best solution. Nothing is happening if you don’t talk about it.

Lando moved his glance to the other boys, just to be sure they were not preparing something else to bother him. (Like that time when Alex and Max had stolen his phone to check his last message that he had assured was not coming from Carlos. It was a lie.) Alex was back on his phone, playing some easy game while kicking George who was moving his head in rhythm, probably following the music from his earplugs. When Lando’s eyes landed on Max, he was surprised to see his Dutch friend staring back, a weird expression on his face. Intrigued, Lando nodded at him, raising an eyebrow questioningly. A small smile was his only answer as Max put his elbow on the armchair and his head on his hand, watching the clouds outside the window. Lando shuffled a little, putting on his own earplugs and closing his eyes, ready to fall asleep. And it was purely a coincidence that he thought of a particular dark-haired man before falling in unconsciousness.

The first days in Montreal went really fast for Lando. Between media duties, walks on the track and work in the facility, he didn’t have a lot of time for himself. The exceptional moments when he was left with nothing to do, Carlos was always by his side, dragging him around, like for this Thursday evening. They were walking back to the hotel, and Lando was freezing from the wind, in only his McLaren polo shirt, goosebumps forming on his upper arms. Carlos was telling him about his race here from a year ago, but the young British stopped following the story when his brain couldn’t deal with that and the uncomfortable cold feeling at the same time anymore. His eyes lowered to the ground as he focused on walking without shivering too much when he suddenly felt something heavy on his shoulders. He quickly turned his head to his left, only to be facing his teammate who was smiling tenderly at him.

“You seemed cold.” He said softly.

The Spaniard’s hands adjusted his light jacket on Landoand stayed a little longer than necessary on his shoulders, squeezing the smaller one against him with a fond smile before going back on walking, but still applying a light and warm pressure on the other’s side.

“Errr… Thanks?”

Lando was confused, his cheeks involuntarily blushing as he tried to find something to say, but no rational word came in his mind. Giving up on protesting, he simply tightened the jacket around him and let his friend guide him to the hotel.

But he still couldn’t focus on Carlos’ story, as his brain was racing about the warm jacket that stopped the shivering of his body, the closeness of his teammate, his hand pressing lightly on his shoulder, the small smile that seemed to be reserved for him and only him those lasts weeks, the nice and familiar smell coming from the piece of cloth around him…

That last thought made him freeze in place in a second. What the hell was he thinking? Lando detached himself from Carlos, suddenly way too aware of their closeness and of the possible implications of that. And he couldn’t take it, that was too much.

Turning around, he felt guilty seeing the confusion on the older one’s face, so he started walking faster and gave the other driver a small lie as an explanation. “Hurry up, I don’t want to catch a cold!”

Carlos eyed him curiously, but it seemed to be enough for him as he shrugged and accelerated his path to keep up with Lando.

The rest of the week went uneventful and before Lando could process it, he found himself in France already. As much as Lando tried to keep things normal with his teammate, the weird feeling he had that Thursday evening a week ago was screwing with his head, and he couldn’t help but think that Carlos was noticing his new uneasiness at their interaction. Every time Lando avoided his eyes or shuffled away from him, the older man would give him a confused look, then squint his eyes with a growing smirk and get even closer to him.

As every other similar moment shared with the Spaniard, Lando was quick to forget it with all the agitation of the week, and the lack of new gossip that day had calmed the newly habit that George and Alex had taken in bothering him with imaginative feelings. Only Max kept looking at him weirdly, so much that the young British was questioning whether to ask him directly what was the matter while waiting for the beginning of the driver’s parade, but was quickly interrupted by two hands poking him in his sides thus making him jump and escape a high-pitched noise, earning every other driver’s attention around him. Next to him, Carlos was laughing so hard tears started forming in his eyes. Despite his annoyance at the unwanted humiliation of screaming like a small girl, he joined his friend’s laugh and shoved him lightly with a “Prick”. The taller one caught his hand and they started playfully fighting for a few seconds, ending their little game with Carlos encircling him with his arms to keep him from moving. Lando raised his head, and his smile faded quickly when he noticed the two Red Bull drivers snickering at him, Alex bending a little to whisper something in the other’s ear, making Max laugh even more. There was no time for him to react as they were all instructed to move to their respective cars for the parade.

“See you after, cabrón.” Carlos whispered in his ear, and the feeling of the other’s breath on his neck made him shiver. He mumbled a quick “yeah” and nearly ran to his designated car, the increasingly familiar warm tug in his chest making his head spin a little.

The young driver spent the whole trip waving automatically around him, his brain fusing with unwanted thoughts about his teammate. Watching around, he saw George further away in front of him, and his fellow British friend smirked when he caught his gaze, his eyebrows going up and down in a mocking way. Lando squinted his eyes accusingly, another blush colouring his cheeks and nose. This was all so stupid.

Carlos and him were friends. Point. There was nothing else to see in it, and that for many reasons. The first one being that Lando wasn’t gay despite his friends’ doubts about it. (Despite his own doubts too, but it was not like he would admit it.) The second one was, even if he was gay – and he was not saying he was – he had no idea about his teammate’s orientation in that matter. And it was not like he could ask him out of the blue, that would raise too many questions he really didn’t want to answer to.

So, no, there was absolutely nothing between him and Carlos, and George, Alex and Max were being stupid for no reason than to bother him. As always.

After the race, Lando walked back to the paddock, feeling light and happy. It all went quite well and fighting against Daniel and Sergio for a few laps had been a lot of fun back there. On his left, Max was radiating confidence, as being back on the podium clearly gave him a boost in his ego. Not necessary according to Lando. They were commenting their race to each other when Alex appeared out of nowhere on his right, a smug smile plastered on his face. For someone who crashed in the wall barely ten seconds after the beginning of the race, Alex seemed way too cheerful, and Max and Lando exchanged an intrigued look.

“Soooooo, Lando…”

 _Oh no_ , Lando thought. This couldn’t end well.

“You know that I crashed in turn 1, right?” Lando nodded, not understanding the possibility of that statement pronounced with such a cocky smile. “You know who else finished his race earlier than expected?”

Of course he knew. How could he have missed the orange car laying upside down against the barriers during lap 22? He could still feel the wave of relief at the ‘Carlos is fine, coming back to the garage’ he was offered a minute later by his personal engineer.

“I know, Carlos had a puncture, why?”

“Oh, well, I was bored in the garage, so I went outside and stuck with him a little.”

The youngest of the three could feel his blood leaving his face as he went livid, anticipating that what Alex had planned to say – with that fricking smirk – was up to no good.

“Yeah and?”

“We talked about you.”

What?

“What?”

No. Lando was sure, he would be doomed for life if he asked what it had been about, even if the words were there at the tip of his tongue. Alex shoved him on the shoulder and his smirk grew even bigger.

“Yeah! I mean, I didn’t get to say a lot, he couldn’t stop talking about his fabulous teammate.”

At that comment, Max chuckled and shoved him too, and now Lando found himself in an extremely embarrassing discussion, sandwiched by the two Red Bull drivers, and absolutely no way of escaping this. Great. He tried his best chance: avoidance.

“Yeah and? Max keeps telling me how much of a pain in the ass you are, and you don’t see me brag about it.”

“Don’t change the subject Norris, I might be a pain in the ass but clearly Carlos is looking to be one in yours.”

The Dutch driver burst out laughing, so much he had to stop walking in order not to fall backward. Alex walked to him and they high-fived under Lando’s horrified glare. Has it not been about him, he might have joined them (he still knew how to recognise a good joke), but this WAS about him and Carlos and he couldn’t take that.

“You’re disgusting.”

Lando turned around and continued his walk, cursing under his breath when he heard laughs and footsteps following him closely.

“Sorry Lando, we didn’t want to make you angry.” Max tried, not really convincing, and the British boy shrugged, already annoyed by their behaviour.

“Yeah mate, sorry, but let’s be serious.” And Alex really managed to make a serious face, putting his hands on Lando’s shoulders to stop him from walking and looking at him directly in the eyes. “He couldn’t stop talking about you, it’s like, obvious that he’s into you, and I think you’re into him too, and you don’t seem to realise it.”

Cold shower. That’s how Lando felt for a second, before his brain went back on his usual technic.

“Let go Alex, this is bullshit.”

He pushed the tall man’s hand away and left them here, heading to his facility.

Lando barely had the time to rest that everyone was back in another race week, preparing the garages on the Red Bull Ring in Austria. Lando and Carlos had been kept busy for the afternoon with media duties and the recording of a new promotional video in which both drivers had to make the other guess a stupid drawing they were making on the spot. Carlos’s abilities to draw were kind of terrible and Lando didn’t stop laughing for a good five minutes as Carlos had tried to present him what should have been an eagle but looked more like a dying goose.

However, when they are shown a few extracts of the footages, Lando can’t help but notice the way he and Carlos leaned against each other at every occasion, how their hands always flew to the other when they laughed as if they craved for any contact, how his own eyes lingered toward Carlos when the Spaniard would focus on his – absolutely terrible – drawing, tongue sticking out in the cutest manner, slowly sliding on his lower lip, mouth slightly agape…

“The video will be fun!” Carlos suddenly exclaimed, dragging Lando out of his unconscious daydreaming and the young Brit blushed furiously at the thought that barely crossed his mind but not quite. He knew where his stupid brain was talking him, and he was NOT going there. Nope. Not a chance. Not a-

Carlos’s hand flew to Lando’s hip and they both turned their head to face each other, one as red as the Ferrari car, wide eyes and unsteady breath, the other always so composed and offering a smile that Lando just knew without knowing why was only reversed for him.

“Now that our day is over, maybe we could go back to the hotel and play some FIFA, no?”

Hand still pressing on Lando’s hip, pulling him closer as if they weren’t already close enough, Carlos kept that smile as Lando forced his brain to stop replaying Alex’s voice on loop. _“It’s obvious that he is into you.”_ And if Lando wasn’t so distracted by the warm pressure on his side, he might have connected his last brain cells to figure out no one in their right mind would touch a _friend_ like that, let alone with a proposition of going to one of their hotel bedrooms all alone for the rest of the evening.

But no brain cells accepted to cooperate and Lando simply nodded, thinking a few games with his teammate would be fun and friendly. He still made a mental note to himself to avoid at all costs talking about this to Alex, George, and even Max. Not that there would be something suspicious to discuss, but feeling his heart pounding in his chest at the growing smile on Carlos’s face at his approbation, Lando was sure the boys would misinterpret and drag him to hell in less than a minute.

Lando, lucky as he had always been (which meant not at all), found himself sandwiched yet again between two Red Bull drivers at the hotel bar on Saturday evening, George taking a seat in front of them and Lando just wanted to slip away and run to his room as fast as he could. His three friends reunited around him could only mean two things: either they would try to cheer him up after his engine failure and a deceiving sixteen’s place on the grid, and he did not want to talk about that at all, or they would talk about their favourite bothering subject like always, which he did not want to talk about. In fact, Lando didn’t want to talk at all. Just go to his room, down the ‘emergency milk bottle’ he kept in the mini fridge and cry his frustration on the phone with his mom.

“Okay guys, I’m saying: let’s not talk about qualifications, okay?” Max stated, exhaustion and annoyance written all over his face just as much as it was now written everywhere he would start the race from the pit lane thanks to a wrongly timed turn. All eyes turned to Alex who lifted his hands in defence.

“Right, mister ‘I got P2 fuckers’?”

“I said sorry twenty times already! Stop it!”

“You said sorry twenty times because you bragged about your place twenty times!”

“Put yourself in my place, I was super excited!”

The two Red Bull drivers continued on their little argument for a long minute, quickly forgetting the existence of an increasingly whiny Lando between them and George had to knock on the table hard to drag their attention. For a second, Lando wanted to thank him.

“You said no talk about qualifications, so let’s talk about something else before someone gets hurt.”

Lando hurriedly closed his mouth at the smirk George gave him, followed by Alex and his devil grin and Max patting his shoulder in a fake comfort.

“What do you want to talk about, George?”

“I don’t know, Alex, maybe we could talk about what we saw after free practice, what do you think, Max?”

“I think I saw something interesting, yeah.”

“Lando, something to say about this?”

At the mention of that particular event, Lando’s brain simply short-circuited, surely to avoid dealing with the consequences of having been noticed.

“I… have no idea what you guys are talking about.”

What should have been a clear statement sounded terribly like a question and Alex leaned on him, predatory-like.

“Oh really? So you don’t remember getting out of the McLaren garage to go to your motorhome?”

Lando shook his head, he was screwed.

“No memories at all?” George insisted, lifting his head in a petty way, the little fucker. “Not even the whole ‘holding hands’ thing? Because personally, I will never forget how happy Carlos looked when you let him took your hand.”

“So cute.” Max laughed and Lando elbowed his ribs hardly, barely earning a small yelp in return.

“It’s not what you think, we were just late to meet Andreas and-“

“Being late never made anyone hold hands.”

“I know but there was a reason-“

“And you were not really running.”

“Yes but-“

“And Andreas was talking with Christian in the Red Bull garage.”

Lando eyed his three companions one by one, desperate to make them believe him but at each new attempt of a lie, his own beliefs started to crumble just like Max’s car a few hours earlier. It was nothing! They had to go back to the motorhome for lunch, Lando had been dragging his feet, busy on his phone and Carlos had grabbed his hand to make him accelerate a little and Lando had let him, still perfecting his new Instagram post, ignoring the few pairs of eyes following them. Nothing but their usual antics…

“Lando, seriously.” George said more gently. “Something is going on between you two and you can’t avoid it forever.”

“But we’re just friends…”

Lando crossed his arms on the table and dropped his head on them, groaning quietly. He felt George pat his head comfortingly as Alex whispered something to Max across him.

“You think we went too far?”

“Depends, you think Sebastian and Kimi went too far with me and Dan?”

“ ‘S not the same, you two had already wanked and-“

“WHAT?!”

Lando quickly straightened himself to look at Max, George imitating his incredulous face and Alex snickered as Max shrugged, blushing lightly.

“You and Daniel did what now?” George stuttered.

“Got together two years ago.” The nonchalance in Max’s voice made Lando want to shake him so he would say more because what the _actual_ fuck.

“Come on, don’t tell me you haven’t noticed!” Alex exclaimed. “They are even less discreet than Lando with Carlos!”

“Well, I didn’t know but I’m not surprised at all.” George shrugged, unfazed and Lando couldn’t believe his ears.

“Not surprised? I didn’t see anything!”

“EXACTLY!” Alex and Max almost yelled at him and Alex burst out laughing. George shook his head at him.

“No wonder you can’t see how much Carlos cares about you if you’re the only one who never noticed about Dan and me.”

“That’s why we’re telling you, so that even if you can’t see it, you still know.”

“And I’m sure you and Carlos have never wank-“

Alex didn’t have the time to finish as George slapped him behind the head, earning another laugh from the Thai. Lando, as dramatic as ever, dropped his head again on the table in a loud huff.

“Okay, you guys win and I’m screwed.” No need to lift his head to hear George give Alex yet another tap before he said any comment.

“Be more precise, milk boy, if you want us to help.”

“I don’t want your help, I want…”

What did he want, really? Lando tried to clear his head, to be honest with himself. He wanted things to be more simple, he wanted to be friends with Carlos like they had always been, he wanted to laugh and have fun and be happy with his teammate, he didn’t want to be worried about the implications of possible feelings, he wanted to know everything would be fine…

“It will be fine, you know?”

Lando shot his eyes open only to meet the blue eyes of the Dutch driver who had leaned on the table too. The words were whispered so quietly Lando barely heard them with the back noise of George and Alex arguing about Alex’s knowledge on Max and Dan’s relationship.

“Are you sure?”

Max smiled, not a mocking smile, a real smile as he dragged a hand on Lando’s back in a soothing manner.

“I thought it wouldn’t go well, but now it’s been two years and I’m as happy as I could be. Carlos adores you and he would go and get the moon for you. So, whatever it is that you want, it will be fine.”

Lando sighed heavily, eyes unfocused as he let himself think about this.

To sum it up, he was going to start his race from the back of the grid, Max and Daniel had been dating for two years and Lando was probably feeling something more than friendship for his more than awesome teammate.

Oh, this was going to be a long night.

Race day had been terrible, Lando had slept more than four hours, way too few for a race and it was a wonder that Lando had finished in the points – but less than the absolute miracle of Max finishing on the podium despite a start in the pit lane. Carlos had an early plane to Spain in the evening, and Lando barely had the time to catch him that his teammate was already gone. At least, it would give him almost two weeks to think about it.

And to say that Lando had thought about this would be the understatement of the year, or the decade even. His brain had gone through all the possibly intimate moments he and Carlos had shared, analysing every look, every movement, every touch he could remember, even scrolling on social medias to search for proofs that Alex, George and Max were right about his feelings. And now that his mind was more opened to the possibility, it was impossible for him to miss the particular smile Carlos gave him when they met on the paddock at Silverstone a few days later.

“Hola, Lando.” Carlos simply said, throwing his arms around his younger teammate and hugging him strongly, head resting on Lando’s shoulder and Lando could only think about the fact that he was the only one Carlos ever hugged around. Unconsciously, he slid his arms around Carlos’s waist and squeezed a little, earning a pleased sigh against his neck.

So, during the whole race week, Lando paid more attention to those little moments with the Spaniard, and there were more numerous than he would have admitted before.

“We told you! Right, George? We told him!” Alex exclaimed, amusingly exasperated at Lando’s confusion. Max wasn’t with them for their breakfast before the race, and Lando stopped himself from asking when he spotted the Red Bull driver with a certain Aussie on the other side of the cafeteria. How he had missed the longing looks and stolen kisses until then, he didn’t know. But again, he was only noticing Carlos’s demeanour with him, and they spent 90% of their time together.

“So, what are you going to do about it?” George asked, munching on a butter toast.

“I don’t know…”

“You could try and return the flirting a little? See how he reacts?”

Lando nodded slightly, that would be the easiest way, most secure and less risky. And he would be able to confirm to himself that Carlos was really liking him as much as the others said. The only problem: Lando didn’t know how to flirt. Of course.

“Or you could pin him in his motorhome and get it done with.”

“Alex!”

“What? Efficient and straight to the point. Well, not so straight, but…”

Alex smirked as George pinched his nose, the stupid jokes of their Thai friend slowly getting on his nerves.

“He’s the one always inviting you for videogames evening, invite him after the race, it will change and subtlety show your interest.”

“Yeah, I could do that…”

Lando stopped talking as he spotted and white and orange polo shirt in the crowd coming closer to them, and suddenly Carlos was standing in front of their table, smiling at the young group. However, seeing their more than suspect attitudes, he raised an eyebrow. Indeed, George was royally ignoring him, suddenly more interested in his yoghurt, Alex was smirking while looking between Carlos and Lando, and Lando himself was looking down, uncapable of stopping the rush of blood in his cheeks.

“Hey boys, can I sit with you?”

“Of course, suit yourself.” George smiled, unbothered, and Carlos took a seat next to Lando, readjusting the position of his chair to get closer to his teammate who whimpered at the touch of Carlos’s knee on his. He threw a helpless glance at his two friends in front of him who exchanged a look that Lando couldn’t decipher, and a second after, they both stood up.

“Oh would you look at the time, I’m late for a meeting with Horner now!”

“And I forgot my phone in my room, I should go back.”

“George, your phone is in…”

Lando didn’t have the time to say ‘your hand’ that the boys were already out and away, leaving him alone with Carlos next to him who chuckled at their antics.

“They are not so discreet, si?”

Lando froze, gulping with difficulty as he could feel more than see two brown eyes looking at him curiously.

“Yeah, well, er… They’re weird.” He mumbled, and Carlos smirked at him, nudging his leg with his knee again as he took a sip of coffee in his mug.

Lando couldn’t keep the shy smile creeping up on his face, and a short glance on his right showed him the effect that had on his teammate, his cheeks darkening a little as he came a little closer again until their upper arms completely aligned. If the warm feeling engulfing him at the touch was what it felt to be even closer to Carlos, then maybe, maybe, Lando would quickly get accustomated to it.

The afternoon was such a rollercoaster, Lando almost (almost) forgot about Carlos and the others. Why, you may ask? It was simple.

For the first time since he drove in Formula 1, and in no other places than at his home Grand Prix, Lando was standing on the podium. Even better, on the top step. Everyone could go home, he was the winner today. After a cataclysmic first lap for the two first rows on the grid that Lando would HAVE to transform into a meme later – Max and Charles fighting hard during races was not a surprise, that they would crash each other and drag Sebastian and Lewis in the catastrophe, less likely – Valtteri found himself with a damaged car that abandoned him a few laps later and Lando found himself in the top three in the blink of an eye. A perfectly managed one-stop strategy and BOOM Alex and all the others were behind and he screamed so hard in his helmet he was sure his engineer was now deaf.

Now, standing on the podium, his parents below smiling proudly at him, and squeezed between Alex and Daniel, Lando was close to crying. Indeed, he not-so-discreetly broke down in tears when the English anthem resonated around them and he mumbled the few lyrics he could remember (his last brain cells having left for a well-deserved nap). A champagne shower and a group selfie later, Daniel disappeared in the direction of the Red Bull station, Alex moving his eyebrows up and down suggestively. In the corridor, they clinked their bottles, drinking some more champagne and Lando felt tipsy already, still high from his emotions.

“I got a win before you.” He elbowed Alex and almost missed him as his feet started to NOT follow him. Lando sighed, he knew to be a lightweight but this was ridiculous. Still, he took another long gulp of the bubbly drink, appreciating the funny taste more than he ever did in Formula 2.

“You’re gonna get two wins with what is coming to you.” Alex smirked and span around to go to his garage. Lando frowned, not understanding what it meant until he felt two hands on his hips making him turn to face his assailant, almost hitting them with his bottle.

“Carlos!” Lando already had a hard time pronouncing his teammate’s name in a correct accent before, now with champagne coursing in his veins, it was almost impossible. Carlos laughed, took the champagne bottle in his hand and dragged Lando further away in a calmer corner, where no one would bother them.

“I thought you would have waited for me before downing the bottle.”

“I left some for you!”

With one hand still keeping Lando close to him, Carlos took a sip in the bottle and chuckled.

“There is not a lot left, carbon.”

“Sorry…”

Slowly getting down from his overjoyed state, Lando realized he was barely tipsy, and mostly happy. Of course, most of his own champagne ended up in Daniel’s hair on the podium. Carlos eyed him curiously, then smirked and finished the rest of the champagne in one sip.

“Hey!” Lando protested, trying to grab the bottle but only resulting in closing the gap between their bodies, faces separated by only a few inches.

“That’s my bottle.”

“When I won one last year, I shared with you.”

“Because you pitied me and my eighth place. You were fourth here, you don’t deserve a pity party.”

“You are mean, you would have left me more champagne if you were nice.”

They both burst out laughing, Lando forgetting his now empty bottle. When he opened his eyes again, his breath stuck in his throat at the sudden closeness with Carlos. He could spot the wrinkles in the corners of his eyes, every pore on his slightly tanned skin, the golden laces in his brown pupils when he opened his eyes…

They stayed like this for what felt like an eternity, the buzz of the agitation outside drowned by the sound of their hearts beating in their chests. Maybe it was the feeling of invincibility coming with a race win, maybe it was the few gulps of champagne he drank, maybe it’s Alex’s voice and Max’s words and George’s assurance resonating in his mind, maybe it’s the now undoubtedly loving way Carlos was pressing him against his chest, but Lando sighed in defeat, bit his lower lip and let his hands run to Carlos’s shoulders, slowly caressing the skin on the edge of his overalls before he linked his fingers behind the Spaniard’s neck.

“Lando…” Carlos was so close that Lando felt his warm breath against his face, their eyes connected and Lando knew he was definitely doomed. Once the others hear about it, he would never hear the end of it.

“Yeah?”

“I think I know where to find the champagne I deserve.”

Carlos dragged his eyes down on Lando’s body, and Lando’s eyes opened wide as he blushed heavily. Carlos lifted his gaze again, smirking and he got an inch closer, eyes searching for consent. He didn’t have to wait any longer though, as he pulled at his neck and pressed his lips against Carlos’s gently. A firework as strong as the one at the end of the Abu Dhabi race erupted in his stomach, joy bubbles climbing in his chest and clouding his mind. Hands pressed against his back, running along his spine and leaving shivers on their track all the while tightening their embrace.

Oh, this felt good, this felt really good. Why Lando didn’t do this before was a mystery, because right now he knew he could never live without the feeling of Carlos kissing him anymore.

“Wooo I knew it!” A voice abruptly interrupted them and the two McLaren drivers swung their heads toward the end of the small corridor where Alex was giving a high-five to George, both boys grinning like mad men.

“What are you doing here?!”

“Double win, Lando, I told you!”

Falsely furious, Lando reluctantly detached himself from Carlos before storming off to run after his two laughing friends.

“Get them, Lando!” Carlos cheered behind him as Alex let out a high-pitched scream when Lando tackled him to the ground, George taking out his phone to film them.

“What the fuck is going on here?”

Both Lando and Alex stopped their fight to look up at Max, face still dejected from his results.

“Oh Max! My adored teammate! That’ll cheer you up: Lando and Carlos have-“

A loud smack resonated, followed by Alex laughing more and whining at the same time. Before Lando could smack his friend once more, Carlos caught his hand, a playful smile on his slightly swollen lips.

“Let go, idiot.”

With a last glare, Lando got up on his feet, hand still clasped in his teammate’s.

“Ooooh, isn’t that cute?” Max smirked, and Alex seemed glad to see his own teammate smile a little after such a disastrous race.

“We’re going to the bar to celebrate, or forget, the results. Wanna join us?” George proposed, and Carlos shook his head, clutching Lando’s hand when he tried to say yes.

“No, we will celebrate on our own. I mean, if you want?”

He turned to Lando with a suggestive smirk, winking when Lando nodded eagerly. With that, Carlos tugged on his hand and dragged him away from the group under Alex’s persistent laugh.

“Oh, okay, no bar, no problem!” Lando mumbled happily, high again with excitement at the glint in Carlos’s eyes. They were up to a good celebratory night.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Now that this is out of my mind, I can go back to my gang&vigilante au - or look into my other drafts because I'm a lazy ass
> 
> Don't hesitate to leave kudos and comments here or come and talk to me on Tumblr @suckmyballshoney, I promise I'm nice


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